


Come Alive

by starkilling



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alpha Shiro (Voltron), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Intersex Keith (Voltron), Knotting, M/M, Mating Bites, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Keith (Voltron), Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, keith has both, killer/to be killed trope, omega anatomy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:21:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24168010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starkilling/pseuds/starkilling
Summary: For smaller groups, the fastest way to wipe them out is by doing something Shiro considers barbaric, even evil. Traditionally, Alphas are expected to protect the community, most importantly the omegas. Omegas are the backbone, the reason why numbers grow. They’re gentle and kind and strong in their own right. No harm is to ever come to them, not even in war; they’re considered sacred. Sendak disagrees, however, under the impression they’re useful for procreation but nothing else. Which is why he easily falls back on bloodthirsty ways of taking out enemies starting at the source - by keeping them from growing. By assassinating their fertile omegas.“He has long hair, black as ink,” Sendak says one evening in a murderous voice. “And amethyst eyes. As soon as you see him, kill him. That is not a suggestion Shirogane, it is an order.”
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 36
Kudos: 318





	Come Alive

Shiro has never really agreed with pack dynamics. He thinks they’re an outdated way of enforcing hierarchies and authority over one another, locking betas and omegas out of opportunities they would otherwise have if they were higher up on the chain of social status. In fairness it’s not like being an omegan in a position of authority is illegal, just extremely unheard of, at least in his clan. In a perfect world, it wouldn’t be that way, but this is the culture he grew up with. He was born into this pack, into their ancient perceptions. It’s been forced into his head since childhood, and as soon as he presented as an Alpha he was expected to adhere to the role of one. Authoritative, steadfast, bold. 

With his above average height and build, he fit the bill for a well-developed soldier. Rigorous training and drills led to him passing trials at the top of the class, encouraged by rewards, praise, and promises for things he wouldn’t otherwise get outside of being a fighter. Those things were always held above his head, expectations almost impossibly high. It didn’t take long for him to gain a reputation, other Alphas in the community giving him the nickname  _ Champion _ . Like he’d win all of their conflicts single-handedly within a single breath.

There were many of those when it came to allocations of land. Clans were particularly territorial, especially ones with more traditional ideals like Shiro’s. The first Daibazaalan leader, Zarkon, made it no secret that he wanted to conquer as much land as he could get his hands on. Much to Shiro’s chagrin, he became the perfect key to getting what his leader wanted. It’s exactly how he ultimately lost his arm in battle, surrounded by enemies far stronger in numbers than his comrades. Shiro is still bitter, frowning in disdain every time he looks in the mirror at the metal arm and the scars on what remains of the flesh. Reckless as ever, Zarkon liked to bite off more than he could chew in his hunger for power. It finally led to widespread losses that were met with backlash, finally forcing the man to pull back until they had enough numbers to fight again. 

But that time never came. Due to an unexpected sickness, Daibazaal lost their patriarch. Shiro’s always been skeptical about whether or not that was what truly compromised his life, considering his replacement. The person who ascended after him was equally as cruel but far more hungry for strength than Zarkon, willing to risk any loss to get what he wanted. While Zarkon picked fights with lands that were already in conflict with theirs, Sendak spared no one. Not even peaceful territories that had no history of conflict, made up of few members and otherwise harmless. So many innocent lives were lost to the hunger of establishing dominion, and more lives were to come.

Sendak’s rule had spread to unimaginable lengths, and the only land that kept him from reaching the coast was a little community that stayed close to the shores of the sea. The Marmorans didn’t involve themselves with any battles, keeping to themselves in their little paradise next to the water. They were far too small to pick fights, too small to have any meaning in localized politics. This is exactly what made them an easy target for Sendak, the last obstacle between him and the edge of land. For him, the idea of annihilating them came without hesitation. 

For smaller groups, the fastest way to wipe them out is by doing something Shiro considers barbaric, even evil. Traditionally, Alphas are expected to protect the community, most importantly the omegas. Omegas are the backbone, the reason why numbers grow. They’re gentle and kind and strong in their own right. No harm is to ever come to them, not even in war; they’re considered sacred. Sendak disagrees, however, under the impression they’re useful for procreation but nothing else. Which is why he easily falls back on bloodthirsty ways of taking out enemies starting at the source - by keeping them from growing. By assassinating their fertile omegas. 

Last Sendak heard through the grapevine and spying, the Marmorans only had one fertile omega in their population. The others have passed on from a fertile age, raising children of their own. The Marmorans have more Alphas in their population than many of the communities around them, even the larger ones, which turns out to be both a blessing and a curse. They’re protected on the outside but weak at the core, and Sendak sees that as a blaring target in their backs. 

“He has long hair, black as ink,” Sendak says one evening in a murderous voice. “And amethyst eyes. As soon as you see him, kill him. That is not a suggestion Shirogane, it is an order. They will get the message and flee.” 

Shiro feels something viscerally nasty twist in his stomach as he goes down on one knee, nodding in a curt motion. Trepidation burns through his skin and singes it when he stands, keeping his expression completely unreadable when Sendak looks him over. “You will depart immediately,” he barks. “Bring back something as proof of your success. A length of his hair, perhaps, but if you’re feeling particularly inspired I’d love to see his pretty heart.” Shiro has to force himself to swallow in order to avoid vomiting at Sendak’s feet at the very idea of having to cut his claws into a guiltless omega’s chest. 

For the sake of getting away from the conversation - and the den - he doesn’t waste a second on leaving. Marmora isn’t a journey but it  _ is _ a trip, one that will require him frequent stops to eat and rehydrate. He has a small leather satchel to keep breads and berries in on his way there; there’s a few rivers along the trail that he can fill his canteen with in case he runs out of water. If he keeps his breaks to a minimum it’ll only take a night to get there permitting he keeps going once the sun settles beneath the horizon. Something tells him he should, because an impatient Sendak isn’t a Sendak he enjoys dealing with.

The forest is the most alive during the night, gentle chirping crickets and foxes skittering through bushes to catch mice taking up much of Shiro’s hearing. Natural sounds of gentle streams and white-capped rapids threaten to lull him to sleep despite being up on his feet. He presses on though, using the threat of wandering spiders and scorpions to keep him going. Though he is tall, built, and more than capable of holding his own, he feels small in the various eyes of tarantulas. Shiro would never admit it though, instead opting for outright denying fearing arachnids if ever asked.

He figures he’s close to Marmoran land when his nose twitches picks up the telltale scent of campfire and smoky leaves. The air is heavier, fumes spreading into the treeline. Beyond the branches little cottages and villas speckle across a field like dots - grass lush, green, tall. It’s nothing like the den he comes from which is more closed off and dark. Marmora is more openly spaced, each home having at least an acre worth of land surrounding it. If Sendak were to see this he’d surely think that it’d be all too easy to pick out the omega. 

The sun has just begun to climb over the leaves when Shiro nears the clearing but he’s stopped dead in his tracks, frozen like vines are breaking through the ground and rooting him there, when he picks up a distinctly omegan scent. It’s hardly even sweet, it’s more floral like lavender with hints of vanilla and spice. Shiro has never been attuned to the scent of other omegas from Daibazaal, most of them are mated anyway, but this is  _ worlds  _ different. This scent fills his lungs and makes him feel like he’s been smoking for years and is getting the first taste of nicotine in over a week. It’s instant addiction, and he doesn’t have to see to know it’s the omega he’s been ordered to kill.

But  _ oh,  _ when he pulls the branches down just an inch and finally does see him, he falls to his knees.

He looks exactly like Sendak had described but so much more. Short, messy wisps of raven hair curl over his shoulders and cascade into a messy braid that flows down to his ribs. Shiro has to squint to see those violet eyes, but they’re sharp and doe-like and full of shine. He’s every bit of beautiful, glowing fertility and everything desirable. In that moment he realizes two awfully devastating things. One, he absolutely cannot and  _ will not  _ put an end to his life. Two, and probably the most knothead thing he’s ever thought because it’s all too close to love at first sniff, he wants his life to start and end with this omega. Which means getting him and hopefully the rest of his village out of harm’s way. Sendak will  _ not _ be happy to hear that he won’t be getting a pretty omega heart as a war prize, but Shiro has long since been looking for a reason to separate himself from that cursed land and its leader.

Shiro is calculated and light on his feet as he approaches. The omega is at the edge picking berries, plucking the fruit from bushes and letting them drop into a basket perched between his arm and hip. He’s humming a soft, quaint melody that pulls right at Shiro’s chest. It’s not difficult in the slightest to imagine himself waking up every morning to the sound of that tune, whispered tenderly into his ear as hands smooth over the tense muscles in his shoulders. When his eyes flutter open he’ll be greeted with an equally light smile, lips curled up at the edges and irises alight with adoration. 

Thanks to his very uncontrolled episode of daydreaming, he doesn’t realize he’s stepped on a branch until it snaps in half with a sickening  _ crack _ , and the omega is standing up straight. He bristles, going completely still, wide eyes darting into the trees and zeroing right in on Shiro. Shiro can sense the exact moment that fear crawls through his skin. The omega drops the basket, berries scattering across the grass before he’s turning on the ball of his foot to sprint for the homes. 

Panic flares up through Shiro’s rib cage at the idea of being caught and maimed within an inch of his life by another group, and he makes a break to catch up, praying there’s enough distance between the spruces and the huts for Shiro to stop the omega. “Wait!” Shiro calls out to him, heaving in a deep breath of air to help his voice carry. “I’m not here to hurt you, I’m here to warn you!”

Little feet skid to a stop and Shiro nearly trips over the spilled basket of fruits to keep himself from running straight into him. Much to his surprise, the omega is  _ glaring  _ at him with such ferocity that for a moment Shiro forgets he’s even an omega at all. There’s so much strength and vigor emanating from such a small body that it chokes Shiro. It almost beckons him to bow, or go down on a knee, or  _ something  _ to show submission. Not once in his life has he ever seen an omega look as fierce as this one does.

“Warn about what? You smell like you come from cruelty, are you here to warn me that you’re about to slaughter me?” His voice is equally as sharp as the rest of him, so sharp that it cuts through Shiro’s own throat and keeps him from being able to speak even a whisper for what feels like minutes.    
  
Eventually he’s able to clear the massive block in his throat by coughing. “No - well, yes - but no!” Shiro’s face blooms with red at the sudden inability to properly formulate words. “It is true I  _ do _ come from a corrupt pack, but I am here to warn  _ about  _ them. Have you heard of Sendak?”   


The omega’s eyes narrow into slits and if Shiro doesn’t already feel like he’s been hearing and seeing things, he would swear that the omega is  _ hissing _ . “Who hasn’t heard of that tyrant? He’s wiped entire clans, innocent clans,” he spits. A weighted pause fills the space between them with silence until realization dawns on the omega’s face, akin to the dread Shiro had put there when he emerged from the forestline. “Are we next?” 

His heart breaks to share the news, but hiding it will do them no good. “Yes,” Shiro says, voice cracking. “Sendak sent me to - to do away with you.” This time he doesn’t pause though, hurrying to wipe the terror that quickly blooms on the omega’s face. “But I’m not going to! I refuse to give into his wicked, primordial ways. I’m here to tell you and the rest of the Marmorans to run before he hears of my betrayal. I’ll help any way that I can, please let me help. I can’t go back there without proof of your demise, and there’s no way I would  _ ever _ lay harm to you.”   


The omega seems to stand there, conflicted and weighing over his options. It’s a heavy burden to shoulder, Shiro figures. Finding out that one’s village is the target of a brewing massacre is an awful revelation, which is precisely why Shiro wants to help. To keep it from happening. “What is your name, Alpha?” The omega suddenly says, and Shiro first feels shame prickle over his skin at hearing the title come from such a pretty face before he’s able to answer.

“It’s Shiro, just Shiro,” he says. “Nothing else. And you?”   
  
Again, a moment of consideration but this one is shorter than before. “I’m Keith.” He blinks for a moment, lips flattening into a line. “Thank you, Shiro, for offering to help. We... should tell Kolivan immediately of Sendak’s treacherous plans.”   
  
Keith doesn’t delay a moment longer, charging across the grass between the clay buildings that lead to the center bonfire. Shiro puts in his best effort to ignore the stares and twitching noses he gets when he passes by other Marmorans, keeping his eyes on Keith’s back. He stops just a few feet behind Keith when they reach Kolivan. Despite Sendak being a fierce head, he leads by fear, and smells of nothing like brawn and solidity. Kolivan, however, Shiro immediately knows is a  _ true  _ leader, a protector. He is perfectly composed despite being in the presence of a stranger that smells of trouble. 

“Shiro is from Sendak’s pack,” Keith hurries. “Sendak has plans to come after us. He tried to get me killed, but Shiro won’t abide. We need to leave before his patience runs out.” Shiro doesn’t feel like he needs to add that Sendak’s patience is nearly non-existent, the proof is already there in Shiro’s arrival alone. 

Relief floods through him when Kolivan agrees without question. Marmora is small enough for the families and members to pack up in record time, strapping tents and supplies to horse-pulled carts. Kolivan leads the group back into the forest, mentioning knowing of an unclaimed plot of land up on the mountain that he’s been keeping tabs on for awhile. Shiro feels a sense of  _ right  _ come over him then, knowing he’s spared a small, innocent community from Sendak’s soullessness.

The mountain Kolivan had chosen has many flat plateaus with patches of grass and brush, shrubs littering along the rocks. It’s more than enough room for the Marmorans, even enough for them to grow their numbers. The height provides the perfect view of the land below them, and with the peak at their backs, it’s sublime protection from larger packs like Sendak’s should they be met with hostility. 

“Why did you want to help?” Keith asks suddenly as they’re beginning to ascend the mountain. “I don’t understand.” 

To Shiro, it had been second nature. “It was the right thing to do,” he whispers, eyes finding the ground. “I’ve let both Sendak and Zarkon hold my life over me and control me since I knew how to walk. I couldn’t let him wipe away a peaceful, small village. Especially by doing something as vile as killing an omega.” He shakes his head, kicking a rock and watching it tumble back down the slope. “He is dark and twisted, and I am not. I won’t let him do this again.” 

And maybe because Keith is by far the most beautiful, alluring omega he’s ever seen, but he is  _ not _ a knothead and refuses to suddenly begin acting like one.

It might be worth it, though, to watch Keith’s little smile appear on his face like it does now, lips quirking up at the corners and pink emerging on his cheekbones. “I suppose I must thank you then, Shiro,” he murmurs. “I appreciate your willingness to do what’s right. I’m sure Kolivan will welcome you into our community with ease.” At that Shiro flushes and he immediately lets the conversation die. Being welcomed into Marmora, a pack so tranquil, sounds more like a dream than it does a very real possibility. But if Kolivan allows it, he’d be more than happy to find his place.   


Shiro focuses on helping set up the tents on the mountainside, placing them over the mossy patches on the rocks to aid in a softer ground. Kolivan reassembles the centerpiece to the community, stacking logs and wood. With the other omegas, Keith replenishes their collection of berries and vegetables and helps them plan for where the next set of crops are going to grow. It takes the remainder of the day and partially into the night, but by the time they are able to retire, the setup is enough for safety. Kolivan makes sure to assign some of the Alphas to guard the edges in case Sendak locates their new whereabouts and attacks.

Kolivan drops a bombshell on Shiro by inviting him to stay, and even though Keith had mentioned the probability of it, he still feels disbelief as he accepts the offer with practiced grace. “I have one condition, though,” Kolivan says. “When we begin rebuilding the cabins, I expect your help.” Shiro agrees to the request without question.

Knowing nobody else, he coops up with Keith in his tent. As soon as the flap opens, though, he immediately considers it an awful idea. In a closed space, Keith’s scent is stronger. More potent. Shiro has tried so hard not to let his Alpha brain control him, but this tests his composure. He has no concerns of spontaneously mounting Keith in the middle of the night, he would never, but Shiro prides himself in being a respectable Alpha. He’d hate to make Keith uncomfortable by staring too long or scenting the air too much. On the subject of scents he does notice, however, that Keith’s has somewhat… changed. It’s sharper, an edge of musk wafting out from him. 

He gulps. 

“You seem troubled,” Keith says, eyeing him curiously and breaking him from his mind. “What’s the matter?” 

Shiro clears his throat and nibbles the inside of his cheek. “A lot happened today,” he says, and it’s not exactly a lie. “I’m concerned that Sendak will quickly hear of the movement and come after us. After you.” That’s also not a lie. 

Keith hums. “This time we’ll be prepared. Had you not come to alert us, had you followed his orders, we’d be doomed. Do not worry too much, Shiro.” 

There’s a rumble in his chest as he chuckles awkwardly, and his uncharacteristic demeanor should be odd to him, but that’s not what takes him by surprise. No, what floors him is the high  _ trill  _ that comes bubbling up Keith’s throat, flowing past his lips in a steady vibration that makes Shiro’s eyes fly wide. Keith seems to be just as shocked, turning beet red and slapping a palm over his mouth. 

“Oh gods,” he mumbles through his fingers, blinking rapidly. “Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to do that. I’ve never done that before. Please forgive me.”    
  
Something unfamiliar and  _ hot  _ washes into Shiro’s chest, but all he can do is stare holes into Keith. Here he is, telling Shiro he’s never  _ trilled  _ for someone, and he just did for Shiro. A complete stranger, but one his body told him he was safe enough to make such a noise near. The heat in his chest immediately travels out to the tips of his fingers and straight down his stomach into his core. 

“Don’t apologize,” Shiro says, and before he can stop himself, “it was… cute. I liked it. I like you.” He’s instantly glad he didn’t stop himself, because in any other circumstances he would  _ never  _ be so forward. A good Alpha like Shiro doesn’t push themselves onto omegas, doesn’t make strong moves that’d cause discomfort. But Keith doesn’t look uncomfortable, he looks… interested. 

“Me?” Keith echoes, perplexed. Then he smirks, and it’s a coy grin that feels all too much like an x-ray that eats him alive and exposes all of his deepest secrets. “Is  _ that _ why you weren’t going to carry out Sendak’s orders? Because you think I’m cute?”   
  
“No!” Shiro chirps, a noise too hurried and high-pitched for his liking. “I mean, you  _ are  _ cute. And you… you smell good. But I can’t be like Sendak, I  _ won’t  _ be like Sendak. He is heartless and unfeeling and callous. I will never adhere to that.”    
  
Keith makes a noise again, like he’s mulling something over. Shiro doesn’t have time to question it though, because soon the omega closes the distance between them until their bodies are nearly touching. Shiro tenses, looking down with a bewildered look, and the befuddlement intensifies when Keith leans in and sniffs the air right in front of Shiro. 

“You smell good, too,” Keith admits, licking his lips. Shiro mimics the motion, his own suddenly awfully dry. “Like a trustworthy Alpha.” The gentle praise goes straight to Shiro’s dick that twitches in interest at the concept of an impressed omega. He gulps in a breath, forcing himself to stay still as Keith practically inspects him. Like this, Shiro is completely bare somehow, even if he still has all of his clothes on. His throat tightens and he works hard to match Keith’s gaze with a composed one of his own. 

Still, some bravery seeps into his veins. “Do I?” Shiro asks, exhaling slowly. “Do you think I’d treat you well?”   
  
Briefly, Keith’s eyes flick up and down, scanning the expanse of Shiro’s body. “Guess there’s only one way of finding that out, huh?” When he looks back up, his hands fist into Shiro’s tunic and he  _ yanks _ him forward, mashing their lips together in a groundbreaking, uncoordinated kiss. 

Now Shiro can act, and he wastes zero time snaking his arms around Keith’s waist and slotting their bodies together in one fluid motion. Keith is so  _ small  _ in his arms, pliant and perfect. And when Keith’s head tilts to the side, Shiro noses right into his neck, pressing it along Keith’s scent gland. His tongue darts out to trail along the skin, scent flooding over his tongue in thick, heady waves. Shiro groans as lavender and cinnamon explode in a series of sparks. He’s quickly hardening in his trousers, and when Keith slips a thigh between his legs he knows there’s no hiding it.

He’s never met an omega so bold, so eager. Something about it sends Shiro’s mind into an uncontrolled tailspin. Keith trills again, this time louder, and he doesn’t bother to mask it. Like an Alpha he responds with a gentle rumble, hands snaking down to palm at Keith’s ass, gripping and kneading the flesh with his hands. He backs Keith against the cot, brushing his thumb over his cheek and coaxing him to lay back. “Clothes off,” Shiro rasps. “Wanna touch you.” 

Shiro practically pulls Keith’s leggings off in one go, and then his scent quadruples. Under the dim light he’s able to see a glistening between slender legs, dripping onto the blankets. Awareness smacks into Shiro harder than an avalanche. “Oh my god,” he mutters in disbelief. “You’re in heat?” The word comes off of his lips sounding almost like a prayer answered, like a gift.

“Pre-heat,” Keith corrects breathlessly. “Noticed it this morning. Originally thought you had come out of the forest smelling it and desiring to jump me.” Shiro swallows thickly, now understanding why Keith’s scent has been sharper since their move. The activity must have jump-started the process, sending him quickly spiraling into his cycle. 

“Not jump,” Shiro says as he pulls his shirt over. “But I  _ have  _ to taste you.” He gets down on his knees and throws his legs over his shoulders, bringing himself face-to-face with Keith’s slick-soaked cunt, cock twitching and leaking. He wraps a gentle hand around Keith’s cock, thumb reaching down and pulling open his folds. His tongue delves in, lapping up the sweet honey like it’s his last meal. This time he doesn’t hold back a growl, and when Keith responds with a whine, he has to reach between his own legs and relieve some of the friction building in his trousers. 

Heels dig into his shoulders as Shiro eats him out in earnest, addicted to the taste. “Fuck, baby,” Shiro sighs, words spilling out of him like the slick spilling onto his tongue. “You taste so good. Opening up for me so beautifully.” Words can’t even begin to describe how grateful he feels, puffed with pride that Keith would be so willing to let him cross this line. An omega as captivating as him surely deserves someone levels better than Shiro, and yet he’s chosen him. Shiro will  _ not  _ disappoint. 

“Quit playing,” Keith grumbles impatiently. “Want you inside me, Shiro.  _ Alpha _ . Please.” And as much as Shiro wants to keep tasting the sweetness dripping from Keith’s hole, he can’t deny a plea as pretty as that. He shoots back to his feet, licking the slick from the corners of his lips, then presses them back to Keith’s. It’s light and passionate, leaving them both starving of air.

He assists in taking off the remainder of their clothes, climbing onto the cot behind Keith. With tender hands, Shiro helps maneuver Keith onto his stomach, balling a blanket up and sliding it under his hips. He uses the slick to lube up his cock, letting the head catch against his entrance. “Are you sure you want this, Keith?” Shiro asks in a moment of clarity, still sticking to his need to be honorable. “It’s okay if you want to stop.”

“No,” Keith pants. “Please,  _ please _ , fuck me. Fill me up. I need it, need you.” 

Shiro massages circles into Keith’s hip where he grips, then positions his cockhead. In one slow, swift movement he’s sliding into that tight heat. It’s impossible to stop the growl that rolls through his chest, pleasure immediately zipping down his navel and into his balls. The heat is all encompassing and surrounds him, walls clenching around his length as Keith whimpers. Once his hips are flush against Keith’s ass he steadies himself. “Keith,” Shiro sighs into the back of his neck, mouthing along it and leaving nibbles. His instincts are begging him to  _ mark, bite, mate _ . “You feel so good, baby, gods you’re so tight. You’re like a fucking dream.”

With a mewl Keith wordlessly fucks himself back onto Shiro’s cock, impatient for friction. Shiro hums and reaches around with his flesh hand, wrapping it around Keith’s length. “Don’t worry, Keith. I’ve got you, sunshine, I know what you need.” Gripping his waist with his other hand, he slowly begins to rock back and forth, carefully increasing the amount Keith takes until he’s able to pull all the way out and push back in. Shiro keeps his thrusts slow and precise, pressing deep into Keith every time he bottoms out while he matches his movements with each stroke of Keith’s cock. The sensations have Keith keening, head thrown to the side and neck bared.

“Please -  _ fuck  _ \- please, Shiro, please - need you,” Keith wheezes beneath him. Shiro’s gut coils and he picks up the pace, fucking into his hole in long, hard thrusts. Each one punches groans out of him, the edge of the noises ending in growls. Keith’s practically ascending beneath him, body burning bright and red. He’s flushed and sweaty, blush spreading from the tips of his ears down to his chest. Everything about him screams magnificence, and Shiro is drowning in it, far below the surface. He’s not going to last, not with this lovely little body writhing beneath him, tightening around his cock like a vice. His knot is already beginning to inflate, pressing up against the opening of Keith’s cunt. 

He could be drawing blood from his bottom lip with how hard he’s biting it to avoid sinking his teeth into Keith’s neck. “Keith -  _ fuck, baby just like that  _ \- I’m going to knot, I -” He’s babbling out the warning in a haphazard mess, hoping it’ll get the message across so Keith can tell him where he wants Shiro when he pulls out.

But Keith doesn’t want that at all. “Knot me,” he preens, voice octaves higher than before. “Mate me Shiro, breed me,  _ please - ”  _ And right as he moans it out, Shiro’s shoving forward with brutal force. He doesn’t need to be told twice. His knot catches right up against Keith’s hole, and with a second thrust it pops in and locks with a wet, lewd squelch. His balls contract and then he’s coming in hot, long spurts, painting Keith’s walls white with thick seed. Behind his eyelids he sees bursting stars, white and bright and blinding.

Keith  _ wails  _ and finds his climax too, ropes of come flying over Shiro’s fingers. His pussy tightens, milks his knot in rhythmic throbs that prolong his own orgasm. Shiro can’t hold himself back any longer and he leans down to sink his canines into the delicate skin on the back of Keith’s neck. They both moan, feeling renewed euphoria drive through them both in a breath-stealing surge of bliss. Keith is gasping as he catches his breath and Shiro licks over the mate bite he’s left, letting the blood gather and clot before he finds it safe enough to pull back. 

Shiro is attentive and careful as he rolls them onto their sides while they’re locked together, and he nuzzles right back into Keith’s neck. His scent is different now, mixed in with Shiro’s own aroma of pine and lumber. The mixture is every bit as flawless as he’d expect it to be, nearly intoxicating. His hand trails down over Keith’s stomach, fingers splaying out over the soft skin there. It almost covers it all, and the heat emanating off of Keith warms his palm. “You’re unreal,” he murmurs in awe, peppering kisses over the crown of his hair. “I’ll protect you, Keith. Always.” 

“Mm,” Keith breathes half-heartedly with a quiet snort. Like he knows how much Shiro wants to be faultless in every which way for Keith. “Good Alpha.” 

Maybe a sicker, more selfish part of him is grateful Sendak’s greed led to him sending Shiro to Keith. If he hadn’t, Marmora’s fate would be completely up in the air. That is Sendak’s misstep, and his misstep is going to lead to Marmora’s prosperity. He will do anything to make sure that Keith, that  _ everyone,  _ will never have to worry about the cruelty he grew up with. 

His lips find the tip of Keith’s ear as he feels the omega’s breathing even out in steady, soft puffs. “Only for you.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading! comments & kudos make my heart go doki. follow me on twitter [here](http://www.twitter.com/starkillling)!


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